Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

BECOMING AMERICA
REVOLUTIONARY AND EARLY NATIONAL PERIOD LITERATURE
time as the murder of Demby by Mr. Gore.
Colonel Lloyd’s slaves were in the habit of spending a part of their nights and
Sundays in shing for oysters, and in this way made up the deciency of their
scanty allowance. An old man belonging to Colonel Lloyd, while thus engaged,
happened to get beyond the limits of Colonel Lloyd’s, and on the premises of Mr.
Beal Bondly. At this trespass, Mr. Bondly took oence, and with his musket came
down to the shore, and blew its deadly contents into the poor old man.
Mr. Bondly came over to see Colonel Lloyd the next day, whether to pay him for
his property, or to justify himself in what he had done, I know not. At any rate, this
whole endish transaction was soon hushed up. There was very little said about it
at all, and nothing done. It was a common saying, even among little white boys,
that it was worth a half-cent to kill a “nigger,” and a half-cent to bury one.
Chapter V
As to my own treatment while I lived on Colonel Lloyd’s plantation, it was very
similar to that of the other slave children. I was not old enough to work in the eld,
and there being little else than eld work to do, I had a great deal of leisure time.
The most I had to do was to drive up the cows at evening, keep the fowls out of the
garden, keep the front yard clean, and run of errands for my old master’s daughter,
Mrs. Lucretia Auld. The most of my leisure time I spent in helping Master Daniel
Lloyd in nding his birds, after he had shot them. My connection with Master
Daniel was of some advantage to me. He became quite attached to me, and was a
sort of protector of me. He would not allow the older boys to impose upon me, and
would divide his cakes with me.
I was seldom whipped by my old master, and suered little from any thing
else than hunger and cold. I suered much from hunger, but much more from
cold. In hottest summer and coldest winter, I was kept almost naked—no shoes, no
stockings, no jacket, no trousers, nothing on but a coarse tow linen shirt, reaching
only to my knees. I had no bed. I must have perished with cold, but that, the coldest
nights, I used to steal a bag which was used for carrying corn to the mill. I would
crawl into this bag, and there sleep on the cold, damp, clay oor, with my head in
and feet out. My feet have been so cracked with the frost, that the pen with which I
am writing might be laid in the gashes.
We were not regularly allowanced. Our food was coarse corn meal boiled. This
was called mush. It was put into a large wooden tray or trough, and set down upon
the ground. The children were then called, like so many pigs, and like so many pigs
they would come and devour the mush; some with oyster-shells, others with pieces
of shingle, some with naked hands, and none with spoons. He that ate fastest got
most; he that was strongest secured the best place; and few left the trough satised.
I was probably between seven and eight years old when I left Colonel Lloyd’s
plantation. I left it with joy. I shall never forget the ecstasy with which I received
the intelligence that my old master (Anthony) had determined to let me go to
Baltimore, to live with Mr. Hugh Auld, brother to my old master’s son-in-law,
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